


Hang Me, Oh Hang Me

by Readerfangirl1



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Comatose Finn, Fluff, Gay Male Character, Gay Poe Dameron, Happy Ending, M/M, POV Poe Dameron, Poe Dameron Can Sing, Poe Dameron/Finn Fluff, Sad and Happy, Sad stormpilot, Stormpilot, fluffy stormpilot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:59:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7093393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readerfangirl1/pseuds/Readerfangirl1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Poe returns from his mission, he's not surprised that Finn is still in a coma. But as he sings him "Hang Me, Oh Hang Me" by Dave Van Rock, he can't help but wonder why he can't take Finn's place</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hang Me, Oh Hang Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheBlackPiano](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackPiano/gifts).



I kept wondering.

It was scary thing. Wondering. Maybe our flesh was thin, but what hid behind it was even deadlier. 

It came at the strangest times. I would be alone in my X-wing, or looking in the cracked mirror of some motel I’d stopped at, and I would wonder what it felt like to be dead. People had lots of theories, yet none of them talked about death just being death. Nobody talked about the possibility that life was a one-shot thing; that everyone had an allotted time, and when it was all used up… well, that was it. You were gone. 

If that was the case, then what was the point of prolonging it? 

I knew that Leia was trying her best. And I was trying my best to appreciate it… I mean, obviously I wasn’t hostile to her. I was too tired for that. 

I was too tired for most things. The last day and a half of my mission- flying back to D’Qar on autopilot- I was too tired to stop somewhere and eat. It wasn’t like I wasn’t hungry- I was- but the thought of having to chew alone was enough to make me exhausted. What was the point? Stuffing my face wasn’t going to make Finn better. 

Everything felt wrong. Living felt wrong. What made me so qualified, after all? What did I have that Finn didn’t? He was an all right soldier, after all. And his knowledge of the First Order would mean more than my flying skills ever would. 

Who decided that Finn had to die, and why… why couldn’t it have been me?

I’d had thirty-two years to figure things out. I’d had thirty-two years to do something with my life- to get married, to have children, to get a less-lethal profession. And at thirty-two years, I was single, living with a droid, and hurtling through hyperspace. 

Part of me knew that a husband, or a few more droids, wouldn’t make that much of a difference. 

The other parts of me knew why that was. It wasn’t about the status of the thing- I didn’t think identifying as single was embarrassing. It was normal- expected, almost- that a gay person would be alone. Especially in the military. It shouldn’t have meant anything to me, really- it shouldn’t have meant as much as it did.

It shouldn’t have meant that I wasn’t with Finn. It shouldn’t have meant that Finn was dead, and it definitely shouldn’t have meant the feeling that I should be, too. 

It always came down to that. 

I should have been dead. 

I couldn’t think of a reason why, and that’s how I knew it was true. This wasn’t the kind of thing you could think through. It brought me back to when I was a teenager, trying to figure out my sexuality. As much as I tried to think it through rationally, it just… wouldn’t come. One day I didn’t know, and the next I did. I couldn’t source my references. I didn’t have any. I just knew. 

I told myself, before I went to see Finn, that I wouldn’t freak out. 

And I didn’t. 

He was still lying on that stupid hospital bed when I got there, looking the same as he had every other time I’d visited him. 

He was beautiful, and he was dead. Both took my breath away. 

I almost smiled as I sat down. What a thought. Dying by Finn’s beauty. It wasn’t that far-fetched… he really was that pretty. And what a way to go. It would be my pleasure, really, to be killed by him. Much better than the other ways I’d been thinking of- crashing my X-wing on some deserted planet, stealing a blaster from the armory… 

“I- I wrote a song.” I whispered. I’d been feeling on the verge of tears since I left for my mission. 

Finn didn’t say anything. 

Obviously I knew he wasn’t going to talk. I just thought… “I thought you’d be awake,” I said softly, gently stroking my fingers over his forehead, “I thought… I thought you’d be alive, Finn. 

“I thought you’d want to hear this,” I continued, “I’ve never written a song before. And I don’t just play in front of anyone.”

I picked up my guitar, trying to stop my hands from shaking so much. “It’s called Hang Me, Oh Hang Me.”

I started the song quietly, not wanting any passing stranger to hear the words. 

“Hang me, oh, hang me… I’ll be dead and gone… hang me, oh, hang me…”

 

Stormtroopers never cried. 

The same rule applied for any sign of emotion- dark or light, good or bad, it was a straight face or the whip. Of course, I’d seen soldiers try to go against it- but those ones were always “sent to reconditioning”. Killed. They should just say it; we’re not stupid. We know what happened to YR-5583, who cried when he got punched, and AD-26, who wanted to be a Jedi. At least, that’s what she said- we were only kids, though, and I don’t think she really meant it. 

It made me uncomfortable around emotions. If you saw someone crying at Starkiller Base, the orders were strict: report to your commander immediately. I had no experience with how to handle my own emotions, much less those of somebody else. 

I’d never had dreams before. I mean, I did, but they weren’t the kind you hear about in books- they were routine things. Drills and assignments and things. The Stormtrooper program wasn’t lenient with creativity, so neither was I. 

I had a lot of dreams when I was sick. I could never tell if they were memories I’d forgotten, or something my mind had made up- and if that was the case, then why would I show myself that? Dreams could be positive, sure, and even negative ones could reveal your fears- but seeing Kylo Ren take down Poe, seeing him tortured, again and again…

…Standing by idly, and, in the few times when I was sentient, gently running my hands through his hair until I was touching a dead man…

That’s why, when I heard Poe crying, I knew I was having another dream. Maybe in this one I’m the dead man. Maybe in this one Poe’s eyes will be his own, and his hands won’t be so cold. 

It had to be a dream. Poe was a hero. He was something out of a book; the vintage action figure nobody dared take out of the box. Poe was crystalline. And nobody, not General Leia, or Solo, or even Rey, allowed themselves to think that their strongest comrade was also their weakest. Imagining that someone as powerful as him was sobbing- for me, of all people- was something that only happened in dreams. 

But it was the kind of dream you wish you’d never wake up from. 

That made me disgusted with myself. What kind of friend- or- whatever we were now- chooses to sit by while their counterpart was in pain? 

Why? I wondered miserably, Why can’t I shed the First Order as easily as my armour?

 

“I wouldn’t mind the hanging… but the laying in the grave so long, poor boy… been all around this world.” 

That was it. 

I was definitely, one-hundred percent crazy. 

I could have sworn that Finn’s finger had twitched. 

But that was insane. He was dead; it was only a matter of time before the nurses gave upon him altogether. Leia had told me that, and it wasn’t for shock value- it was the truth. Everyone was just waiting for me to realize it. 

Why am I doing this to myself? He’s dead, you idiot, you completely useless, gullible, self-absorbed bastard- 

“Poe…?”

He was trying to get up. 

Finn. 

Finn was trying to get up. 

“Poe.” his voice was rough and calloused and strained, but I loved it. I loved him. I loved Finn. 

 

I got up quickly, gently pushing him back into bed. He slumped back easily, staring at my hand- which I realized, much too late, was lingering on his chest longer than it should have. 

“Shit,” I blushed, “I’m sorry, I was just-“

Finn caught my hand unexpectedly, holding it steadily in his. “That song,” he mumbled, “I loved it. I loved everything about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“What do you mean, am I sure?”

“Well,” I smiled, entwining my fingers in his, “I don’t imagine they had a lot of music in the First Order. How would you know what’s good and what isn’t?”

“Poe Dameron,” he laughed, “You are such a problematic fave.”

That made me giggle. Blushing… giggling… I was turning into a fucking school girl. A crazy fucking school girl. 

“As long as I’m still a fave.”

Finn blushed, looking down, as if trying to hide the ridiculously adorable grin covering his face. I almost couldn’t believe it- he was even more beautiful awake than asleep. 

“Hey… Finn,” I rubbed my neck anxiously, “I was wondering… there’s this little coffee shop down the street… and… well… obviously we wouldn’t go now, because you’re… you know… but do you think… maybe later… you’d want to…?”

Finn smiled warmly. “I’d love that.” He said, and it nearly killed me. 

Leia was right about that half of it- I was totally and completely infatuated with Finn- but she was wrong in the other. I was in love with a man- a very, very alive man.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey people, 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! I gifted this work to my wonderfully talented girlfriend, who encourages me to write all the time, but especially helped me think of all the songs used in this series. This fic might not even exist without her, and it definitely wouldn't be half as good, so she deserves a giant round of applause. 
> 
> I loved writing this series so much more than I expected to, and it seemed to go by like nothing. I really hope you all loved it too :)
> 
> May the gay be with you,  
> Mackenzie


End file.
